Tales of a New God
by Shinzoku
Summary: Well, here we are. I present to you your new Daedric Prince of Madness. And he's angry. (Set in my personal Oblivion play through, where halfway through the main quest I stumbled upon the door)


_**Shinzu**_ : Hey hey, what's up. This isn't anything too serious, really, just me screwing around with my Oblivion character. I would love some critiques and what you think about it all, as it would help me greatly! I haven't been playing very long- not even a year, I got Skyrim last fall, and Oblivion over the summer- so please me gentle, at least.

It's meant to be a series of drabbles of whatever I feel like, really.

* * *

" _And I'll have to rebuild my whole realm! Again!"_

He pressed his index finger and thumb against his squeezed-shut eyes, allowing himself a moment to take a nice, deep breath. All he could do from snapping at the arguing guards was to kick aside a knight's helmet, sending it catapulting into the ruins of the old Passwall Inn.

The golden saints and dark seducers stood stiff at the rattled sound and took a few steps away from him.

"You see this mess?!" he cried out, pointing around to the whole area of crumbled buildings, fallen boulders, and shattered crystal. "This is what I was left with, this isn't what I asked for, and it needs to get on the road to being fixed! And you're sitting here arguing like children!" He took another deep breath. "And to make matters worse, I still need to get back to Cyrodiil and stop a _different_ daedric prince! You know the one! I need...to get back now."

No one spoke, no one moved. Someone to his right said to him in a very familiar, somewhat dreary voice, "my lord, if I may, I feel it might be...better, for the time being, if you remained in the isles."

He scrunched his nose and sneered, swinging his axe around haphazardly. "Why? It's not like we'll run out of _time_ or anything," he snapped, causing Haskill to breath out a sigh that could rival his own. "Well?"

" _Well_ , we're not...quite sure what could happen, with you returning to the realm so soon." Haskill cleared his throat, one arm neatly folded behind his back. "As you know, this has never really happened before. No one knows what could become of the isles, lord Sh-"

"Don't call me that!" the dunmer hissed, withdrawing his axe. "I told you, I am Jupiter Caldwell. I have a twin, two younger brothers, and three young children at home, back in Morrowind, where I belong. You don't know what could become of the isles? Sure, fine, let's _find out!_ "

Abandoning Haskill, Jupiter blindly stomped through a puddle pouring in from a nearby lake, and taking on the path that led back to the office he had first met Haskill in. He threw his arm back in dismissal when he heard Haskill mutter something along the lines of 'he'll grow into the roll quickly at this rate, I'm sure,' to soothe the guards' confusion.

None of the saints or seducers were going to stop him. After all, it's what he seemed to want and he was their lord, was he not? Even if he didn't like that title. Unfitting, he thought, for someone like him, a dunmer who has strayed from his path of normalcy and ended up with a nice spot in jail. His twin, perhaps, might be better suited for this, as he was rather mad himself. Even his younger brother Atlas would have been better suited, having been blessed by the gods with inhuman strength and familial stability.

You'd have to be mad to trust him with anything, but just that thought alone stopped him in his tracks and Haskill took his place at his side once more.

"It may be best if you remained here for just a bit longer, Jupiter," he began. An item appeared in his hand which Jupiter knew all too well to be the Staff of Sheogorath. "And please keep this with you, it is your life source."

Jupiter scowled and snatched it from Haskill, giving it a good, scrutinizing look over. "I need to be tied to this? How pathetic. But, fine. Whatever. You know the name Mehrunes Dagon, you know what he is. Can I not just fight him on my own, as if I hadn't become. Become—this?" He gestured to himself, which wasn't quite saying much, as he stood in masculine, dark seducer armor and carried around a shield of madness ore.

"You are a daedra now, my lord, and carry with you a power the other daedra can pinpoint. I'm afraid you won't be able to fight him as your old, mortal self." He turned, looking out over Passwall, toward the fringe where the gatekeeper roared. The stars and galaxies shined in the sky. "In the end, whatever you do is your choice."

"I—I, um." Jupiter became breathless. He gripped the staff, scowling at the back of Haskill's head. "I don't know what to do. Never been...you know, a god before."

He felt truly hopeless. As hopeless as trying to get through the burrow, unable to find any felldew while on the verge of collapse. As hopeless as standing at the palace doors, valiantly holding his axe against the Order attack. It was like an emptiness in his chest that only grew with each moment of indecisiveness. Eventually it went on long enough that he lost track of time.

Haskill jostled him out of his daydreaming. "Sir-"

"Don't touch me." Jupiter shoved his hand away and took to stomping back to the gathered guards.

They snapped to position, awaiting orders. He pointed to the inn. "That lady over there needs her inn back. Put your priorities toward clearing out the area and rebuilding what needs to be rebuilt, then move on to the rest of the fringe." If he could do it himself, he had no idea how to. It had been mere days since Sheogorath left them and he hadn't had much time to himself. You'd think the position came with instructions, a scroll or book or something, but no. Not really.

He didn't say much more. He had other matters to get to, matters that overwhelmed him, but he knew he had to do them anyway. He needed to appoint two new dukes or duchesses. Crucible needed some help, even if they hated his guts. He needed to learn so many things, how to be a god being the first.

Haskill followed him all the way back. He mentioned once, as they were passing through the gate of mania, that he could summon himself to the throne, but Jupiter payed him no mind.

"This is my home," Jupiter huffed, gripping the handle of his axe. "Might as well get used to what it looks like."

The mushrooms and creatures he'd have to get used to, but at least this time none of them were attacking. It made the trip back to New Sheoth rather enjoyable, giving him time to look around and see all the sights of the isles. Or most of it. He wouldn't be able to take a look at it until things quieted down.

"Haskill, what am I supposed to do?"

"Whatever you want, my lord."

"No, I mean..." Jupiter deflated, hanging his head. He lifted a hand to hold up his helmet. "I don't know any of this."

"You will learn. Trial and error." Haskill stepped aside as they neared the gates to New Sheoth. "I will only be able to help you along the way, I can't do it for you."

"Wasn't asking that," Jupiter muttered. When the gates opened, he strolled on into Crucible. He ignored the citizens giving him side glances and nasty looks. "Haskill, make me a list of all the places that need fixed up. Whether or not they were Jyggalaughs'-"

"Jyggalag, sir."

"Whatever. Whether or not they were his doing. Place felt pretty run down when I got here."

"Yes, sir. I'll have it to you by morning. Please take a few moments to rest and gather your thoughts, it should do you some good. And remember to keep your staff with you." Haskill gave a curt wave and disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

Jupiter stared out at the streets of Crubile. Too many people needed him at once. Crucible, Bliss, Martin, all of Cyrodiil.

He took a deep breath. He'd get there eventually. A few more days here, and he'd be on his way to stop Dagon.


End file.
